


Endurance

by GothicPrincessWitch



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dissent (quest), Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, descriptions of past character death, massive amounts of self-loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-14
Packaged: 2019-02-02 00:13:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicPrincessWitch/pseuds/GothicPrincessWitch
Summary: Hawke blames himself for the tragedy of Ella's murder. When he sinks too deep into his self-loathing, Fenris is the only one who can reach out and bring him back to himself.





	Endurance

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to sunlian on Tumblr for inspiring this work! Your support and encouragement in my writing have been nothing short of wonderful!
> 
> And as always, lots of love and gratitude to theoxfordcommando. I don't know how I'd ever get anything written without you. 
> 
> Considering this fic deals with the aftermath of Ella's murder during the Dissent quest, Anders is not portrayed in a positive light. You have been warned. 
> 
> Hawke never learns Ella's name in game if she dies, which is why she's left unnamed during this story.

The moment keeps replaying in Hawke's head, an endless looping cycle like a nightmare from which he can't escape. The girl, terrified. Anders, glowing and vengeful and so assured of his self-righteousness.

 _"Get over yourself and let's finish this,"_ Hawke had snapped, only for Anders to bring down his bladed stadd and impale the young woman upon it.

Hawke can't stop remembering the sight of the girl's wide, horrified eyes dimming, all life and light leaving her.

She was just an innocent child. He should have saved her and taken her back to the Circle. He should have attacked Anders. He should have done something beyond the assumption that Anders would heed his command.

Anders isn't just an abomination and a monster anymore, but a murderer now as well.

And it's all Hawke's fault.

 _You fucked up. You fucked up. You fucked up._ These words repeat in his head in a voice that sounds suspiciously like Carver's.

Now Hawke sits alone, on a divan in the estate's parlor, with a glass of whiskey in hand, as he drowns himself his guilt and self-laceration.

He has to do something about this. He has a responsibility, an obligation, to something about it. But what can he possibly do? Report this murder to the City Guard? They'd inevitably find out about the massacre of a group of Templars beneath the Gallows, and then Aveline would only endanger her position as captain trying to protect her friends.

Hawke could go directly to Cullen about this. He's earned enough favor and friendship with the Knight-Captain that Cullen should be willing to listen to him. Of course, Hawke would have to carefully leave out any mention of Fenris and Sebastian's presence. If it were revealed that Sebastian was involved in the deaths of Templars -- even slimy, evil bastards unworthy of bearing the Sun-Shield -- he would be stripped of his place in the Chantry, and it would completely jeopardize any chance of his claiming his rightful place on the throne in Starkhaven. Hawke couldn't do that to his friend, especially because Sebastian was only there in the first place because Hawke asked him to come along. He could not bear to be responsible for ruining Sebastian's life on top of everything else Hawke is responsible for in this disaster.

And as for Fenris, well, there's nothing Hawke wouldn't do to protect him.

However, that still leaves the matter of Anders...

Hawke should kill him. He should really truly kill him. It's what Anders deserves, and it's only a matter of time before Anders kills another innocent person. Anders needs to be stopped.

But how? With that spirit inside him, Anders cut through those Templars like a scythe through wheat, like a warm knife through butter. They didn't have a chance against him, and these were people trained to fight mages and demons. If Hawke were to bring Knight-Captain Cullen and other Templars to Darktown to arrest Anders, then he would most likely be leading those knights to their deaths. More blood on his hands. Not to mention any innocent bystanders at the clinic -- well, as innocent as anyone still alive in the Undercity can be; uninvolved is perhaps a better term. Since Anders killed that mage girl with no hesitation, it stands to reason that he could turn on and attack any bystanders in or near his clinic if it came to a fight, and Hawke has no delusions that Anders would surrender quietly and peacefully.

There is the option of going after Anders himself, taking justice into his own hands, in a manner of speaking.

_Power, burning more brightly than the sun, pouring through cracks in Anders's skin, and rolling off him like clouds of that poison gas in Lowtown. The inhuman roar of that magic as he descended upon his victim. The presence of evil prickling over Hawke's skin, just like any other time Hawke has faced a demon._

A shudder runs through Hawke now as the memory replays yet again, and he takes another sip of his liquor to steady himself.

Hawke does not believe he could win that fight singlehandedly. Anders is too powerful of an abomination.

And he knows that Fenris would never be alright with his trying to take down Anders alone, and there's no way in hell Hawke would be alright endangering Fenris like that. Hawke does not doubt for a moment that Anders would seize the chance to murder Fenris if given the opportunity.

So Hawke is right back where he started, with the need to take responsibility for this yet no viable solution as to how, and what remains is the endless well of guilt and self-loathing churning within him, dragging him down deeper and deeper.

He didn't save her. Just like he didn't save Carver, crushed by that ogre. Just like he didn't save Bethany, with her blackened veins and Taint-darkened eyes filled with tears until he brought his knife to her chest--

Tears sting Hawke's own eyes as he finishes his drinkk, and his grip on the empty glass tightens so much that he can feel it crack in his hand. The sound of breaking glass echoes through the room, too much like the crack of that girl's head as Anders murdered her -- as Hawke watched him murder her while he stood there helplessly, _stupidly, **uselessly--**_

"Garrett?"

Blinking back the tears, Hawke looks up to see Fenris in the doorway, his lovely face drawn with worry.

"I knocked, but you didn't answer," says Fenris, shifting awkwardly.

Realizing he's being a terrible host to his -- _boyfriend? significant other? They haven't yet defined a term for what they are to each other_ \-- more-than-friend, Hawke stands up quickly, self-recriminations running through his mind in a voice which this times sounds suspiciously like his mother's. Depositing the cracked glass on a nearby end table, Hawke gestures to the divan.

"Would you like to sit down?" Hawke offers. The corner of his full lips tilting upward into a shy half-smile, Fenris approaches, and Hawke is vividly aware of what little space lies between them as they both take seats on the divan together.

"What brings you to my humble abode?" asks Hawke with forced lightness, trying to hide his guilt behind his usual mask of humor. But Fenris knows him too well and isn't fooled.

"I thought you might wish to talk about what happened yesterday," Fenris answers, his voice soft and gentle and like a soothing balm to the wounds in Hawke's heart -- a balm Hawke doesn't deserve.

"I don't know waht to say," Hawke admits after a long pause, though the moment of silence is comforting rather than awkward or pressure-filled like he would have expected. "I don't know what to do. I don't know how to fix this."

"You are not to blame."

A mirthless huff of laughter escapes Hawke. "That's not true."

"It is true," insists Fenris firmly, his green eyes burning into Hawke's. "I would never lie to you."

And he wouldn't. Hawke knows that and values it greatly. But that doesn't change how much it hurts to feel this way, to feel responsible, to feel unable to do anything, to feel as though everything is out of his control.

Fenris's long, nimble fingers entwine in his own, squeezing his hand comfortingly, a gesture that gives Hawke strength.

Hawke takes a deep breath and says, "I can't-- I couldn't protect her. I can't avenge her. I can't do anything for anyone."

 _I can't save anyone,_ are his unspoken words.

"You're wrong," says Fenris, holding Hawke's hand like a lifeline, like the most precious treaure in Thedas.

"Am I now?" mutters Hawke without any heat.

Fenris slides closer, his hands moving to gently cup Hawke's face, and Hawke finds himself leaning into the touch.

"You saved Isabela. She would have been killed by those raiders three years ago had you not intervened. You saved Sebastian. Had you not gone after those mercenaries, he would have met the same fate as his family.

"You saved me. I would not have been able to elude Danarius's hunters without you. You have saved and protected all of us time and again."

Hawke wants to deny it, wants to argue that they all would have been fine without him if not better off, wants to insist that everything going wrong in their lives is his punishment for not being good enough, but how can he when Fenris is looking at him like that?

Fenris thinks the world of him, and Hawke wishes he could be worthy of even a fraction of Fenris's high opinion of him.

Hawke's eyes slip closed, and he rests his forehead against Fenris's, a gesture that feels very intimate. He can feel Fenris's breath against his face and Fenris's lyrium-lined hands holding him, and he can't bring himself to say anything more for a while. He just lets Fenris hold him and tries to allow himself to accept the comfort Fenris brings him.

Eventually, after what seems like hours, he opens his whiskey-colored eyes, and although his self-hatred doesn't go away, it fades to the back of his mind (where it usually lingers), while the rest of Hawke's thoughts are occupied with the realization that there could never be anything in the world more beautiful than the way Fenris's silver hair falls into his eyes.

"What would I ever do without you?" Hawke says at last, a more genuine lightness in his voice this time, though it does not overshadow the unspoken gratitude he attempts to convey.

But Fenris knows. Fenris knows him better than anyone else.

Fenris's fingers move to card through Hawke's hair as he smiles warmly. "You would endure," he says. "You are the strongest, most capable man I have ever met. You will always endure."

"You forgot 'most handsome,' " Hawke manages to tease, feeling like a suffocating weight has been temporarily lifted off his chest, and he's rewarded with Fenris's wonderful laughter.

"Rest assured that I could not possibly forget the obvious."

Hawke smiles himself this time and brings his lips to Fenris's for a soft, sweet kiss.

He will find a way to deal with all of this, with everything, so long as he has Fenris to believe in him.


End file.
